


Surprise!

by glacis



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacis/pseuds/glacis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim goes back to nature, and takes Blair on an unexpected trip. Blair then returns the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprise!

_Surprise_

Paperwork. God, how he hated paperwork. If he had to, he'd escape to the jungle to get away from the damned stuff. His fingers pecked around on the keys, feeling inadequate in the echo of the sound of  his partner's own hands flashing over the keys of his laptop. For an instant, enhanced hearing tuned out the irritating clatter and dove a little deeper into the smaller figure curled by his side at the desk. His fingers stilled, then fell into his lap, as his ears took him right up close and personal with his Guide.

Hmmm. Cotton, brushing against more cotton. Shirt over undershirt over hair over skin over flesh over veins over bones over rush of  blood through chest to heart. He fell into the heartbeat, nearly  zoning on the rhythm. With a distant sense of wonder he realized  that all the irritation was fading away, as he slowly sank into  the same rhythm as his partner.

Hearing taken up with the steady thrum of blood through Blair's system, he reached out with other senses. His vision narrowed until it  caught nothing but the warm sable, auburn, gold and charcoal strands  of hair, like jungle vines in a tiny miniature wilderness, catching  him and binding him in place. His nostrils twitched, and he was  caught in the damp, slightly spicy scent of herbs, sweat and musk  that made up his Guide. It was earthy, out of place in the sterile  environs of the police station, and it wrapped itself around his  head, pulled him further into the jungle.

His hands twitched, and tactile memory kicked in, reminding his fingertips what that skin felt like, the solidity of muscles under  his hands, the strength of those arms under his clenched fingers, the sturdy thighs and rounded ass lying under him as he sheltered his partner from some nutcase or other. The breadth of the shoulders,  the curve of the nape of his neck, familiar from many friendly hugs and pats over the last few years. His skin itched with need.

Saliva rushed his mouth, and his lips parted slightly, as he scented the air with his tongue, much like a wild cat. The sweetness of the herbs in Blair's tea were present in the light sheen of sweat along his hairline, and the Sentinel licked his lips.

He was hungry.

Startled cobalt eyes glanced up, snared with his. He smiled. The eyes got even wider.

"You okay, big guy?" Sentinel soft, Guide worried. His smile broadened.

His Guide snapped shut his laptop, looked around the bullpen, and quickly tugged Jim to his feet. Ellison looked down at the long fingers wrapped around his wrist, and the hunger flared. Taking the initiative, he half lead, half prodded Blair out into the elevator.  The smaller man was bouncing a bit from foot to foot, clearly  nervous. He licked his lips again.

Blair was talking, as usual. The words flowed around him, warming  him, making him hungrier. He pointed the truck toward the mountains,  toward the trees, the solitude, the undergrowth. The earth.

The words slowed, grew sharper, inquiring, demanding. Eventually, somewhat lost, and then slightly frightened. That would not do.  They were here.

Turned off the ignition, shut the door, opened the other door and pulled  his Guide to him. Hands patted him, now, worried, sharp again with  that edge of fear. He murmured something, he didn't know what, couldn't remember how to form words, just wanted to reassure. It seemed to work, the stream of words began again, calming, quietly soothing.

The hunger was taking control. Deep in the trees, Guide a warm presence attached to his side, fingers entwined. Querying noises  again in that soft voice. Hidden, shadows, operating on a purely  instinctual level now, knowing in his gut as he hadn't ever admitted  in his mind that this is what they had needed, this was where they  were headed from the beginning.

Placing his Guide against the broad trunk of an ancient tree, feeling the pulse of the hunger beat through him, in perfect time with the rush of blood and the tripping beat of the heart under his mouth.  Words sliding into moans into cries as his hands stripped the layers efficiently away from his mate. Warm skin, pebbled with tiny goosebumps as shivers wracked the solid frame, muscles bunching and  relaxing as he explored them with every sense open wide. The scent was stronger now, here, as the arousal built. The generous mouth  open to his, heat flaring from the tongue he was sucking, the lips he  was nibbling. The taste was making his mind explode.

His hands ran along his Guide's legs, memorizing shape and texture, roundness of kneecap, curve of shin, weight of hamstrings as he was lifted and turned. The cries were softening, mewling sounds,  whimpers of shock and arousal scraping along his ear drums, adding  urgency to his movements. Palms on the points of his mate's  shoulders, stretched full length along the arching back, face buried  in the heat of the heart of him, where the taste and the scent were  strongest. Using the force of his own legs to pin the writhing form  to the earth, stretching and nuzzling him. Riding the contractions  as orgasm claimed his Guide, convulsing in his hands, then bringing  that taste to his mouth as well. The hunger was screaming at him.

Pushing into the relaxed heat, wet from his mouth, still spasming uncontrollably. Little resistance, a welcoming pull on his flesh, grunting as he made full contact, buried as deeply as humanly possible in his mate. Wrapping himself around the bucking hips and  heaving chest, burying his face in the wild curls, opening his mouth  and leaving his mark on the soft skin of neck and shoulder.  Thrusting against the wide-spread legs to either side of his hips,  knees digging into the soft earth, fingers digging into the bend of  his waist, the small nub of a nipple. Screaming into the sweating  skin under his open mouth as the universe contracted to the connection between them, feeling the new tension in the lithe body  beneath him fragment into orgasm following his own climax.  Collapsing around his mate, still connected, as time and place  slipped back into being, and reality shifted into focus.

The hunger was sated.

Jim Ellison was in shock.

 

Blair spat a leaf out of his mouth, prodded backward experimentally against the bulk blanketing him completely, and tried very hard to catch his breath. Where the hell had THAT come from? One minute  he's typing up lecture notes while Jim catches up with some  paperwork, the next minute his partner goes totally nonverbal, tosses  him in the truck, takes him out into the middle of the rain forest  and fucks him senseless. Then falls on top of him and tries his best  to suffocate him.

Welcome to the Twilight Zone.

The solid mass that was his partner, currently doing his damnedest to drill him through the forest floor, was making no attempt to shift. Desperate for many things, not the least of which was air, and wondering if coming twice in less than a half hour while being ridden hard by a guy built like Moby Dick would actually kill him or just cripple him for life, Blair was less than coherent in making known  his desire to escape. Actually, the words came out sounding like, "MMmrphlptm."

Apparently, it worked. With a groan that came from his toes, Jim slowly pulled out of Blair and rolled over on his back. It hurt, but  in a really good way. The thought nearly made Blair crack up, and he probably would have if he hadn't been in immediate danger of snarfing up several pounds of damp earth if he did. So he lay there,  wondering what kind of love bug had bit his partner, and why he  wasn't more upset about it than he was. Eventually, it dawned on him  that Jim was trying to say something. Wincing at the well used  feeling in his nether regions, he cautiously lifted his head and glared at his partner.

"You grunted?" The sarcasm would've worked a lot better if the tone hadn't made it clear that this was a royally well fucked man speaking. He ignored the satiation rolling off him in waves and settled his cheek into the ground, staring at Jim.

Who was blushing.

Everywhere.

It was an interesting sight. He didn't know a guy could blush on his balls.

One part of his mind was absolutely certain that he should be questioning his partner about exactly what the hell had just  happened, and undoubtedly taking notes, since it was somehow linked  to a zone out, he thought, maybe, or a sense that was more than a  little out of kilter, or even some sort of previously undiscovered  Sentinel-Guide linkage that had just made itself known in a very  explosive manner. But before his brain could form the phrase,  'What's up, man?' he was, himself, and he knew that anthropology was  going to have to take a back seat to biology.

Ellison rolled toward him, an appalled look on his face and an apology on his lips. Blair dragged himself up onto one hip, careful of his tender ass, and sort of fell over, face first, into Jim's crotch. Before the Sentinel could figure out either how to explain something he didn't understand himself, or what the hell Blair's reaction was  going to be, the Guide had the Sentinel's full length down his  throat.

So much for rational thought on either side.

Settling happily between wide flung thighs, Blair went to work with a will.  Everything from collarbone to asshole was thoroughly well explored by  busy fingers, all the while the impressive erection in front of his  nose got all the attention an enthusiastic mouth and tongue could  give it. Before long, whimpers and moans were all Jim could  articulate, and most of them were muffled from being forced out through clenched teeth. Wrapping his fingers around the pulsing  balls under his chin, Blair took his partner to the edge several  times, refusing to allow him to come, before Jim had absolutely no  mind left.

Rearing up slightly, one hand buried in the clenching ass, one wrapped around the straining balls, Blair nipped at the head of Jim's cock  and looked up at the older man's face. The ice blue eyes were wild,  lips drawn back in a grimace of either extreme pain or unbearable  pleasure -- or both. Blair nodded.

"So, big guy, next time you ask first, right?" Uncomprehending eyes stared back at him, tortured by the delay in the action. He squeezed the ball sac a little tighter. The teeth unclenched long enough for one frustrated wail of "YES!!" and he nodded again. "And it'll be in  the bed, right, man? 'Cause I really hate the taste of dead leaves."  A whimpering moan that might, under broad definitions of spoken language, be understood as agreement, was enough. "Cool."

Blair rose from his position, pulled his fingers from his mate's body, and swung a leg over the trapped hips. Shifting his hold from balls  to shaft, he positioned the head at his anus and sank all the way to  the root in one movement, thankful for both previous experience in  this activity and recent usage that had loosened the way.

Jim screamed. Again.

Blair threw back his head, leaned back on one arm with his fingers wrapped around Jim's balls once more, and proceeded to take his time riding his partner. It was more than a little exhilarating having  that much raw animal power quivering helplessly under him. Not to  mention the fact that he really loved being fucked, and Jim hadn't  taken nearly enough time the first go 'round. He made up for that  oversight this time.

By the time Blair finally allowed Jim to come, neither man had any semblance of control left. Jim was thrusting up wildly, nearly unseating Blair, who had dug his feet under Jim's waist and was holding on for all he was worth. It was a very wild ride. Jim  finally found presence of mind, or instinct, enough to reach out and  milk Blair's cock roughly in time with his thrusts. In reaction,  Blair slammed down as hard as he could on the cock impaling him as he  came. The resultant muscle spasms nearly sucked Jim's cock clear off  his body. It was the most intense orgasm either one of them had ever  experienced.

Fifteen minutes later they calmed down enough to actually take a look at each other.

Jim blushed. Again.

Blair cracked up.

They were covered with dirt, leaves, and grass stains, not to mention sweat and a few pints of semen. Clothes were flung all around them, and they resembled nothing so much as a pair of randy centaurs on a  spree. Blair settled gently against his partner, slowly flicking  dead leaves off his chest.

"Debauched is a good look on us, man," he whispered into Jim's right nipple. The bigger man shivered.

"I'm sor-" Before the words could get completely out of his mouth, Blair bit down, and Jim's proffered apology was lost in a strangled "OUCH!"

"Don't apologize, Jim. Explain." A rough tongue licked over the  abused nipple, and Jim wound his arms around his Guide.

Several minutes of snuggling with no explanation later, Blair sighed. "Okay, don't explain. Just tell me, is this a one off?" Then he  held his breath.

"Not on your life, Chief," came the contented rumble in his ear.  "Or on mine."

Okay. Explanations could wait. He could live with that.

~~finis~~


End file.
